Page 57 of The Moonlight Healers

“Did she…?”

“She never told me. But Matthieu lived, when he shouldn’t have. My sisters and I suspected why.”

Helene put her hand on her mother’s. She knew how hard it was for her to talk about her family, how deeply she missed them, especially her four older sisters, with whom she could share the burden and gift of healing. “So that’s a blessing then. Isn’t it? Your brother lived, as he should have. He was only a child.”

Agnes smiled sadly. “It was a blessing. For a time. My mother wouldn’t let Matthieu out of her sight. She was so grateful to have him. But over the years, she changed. Slowly at first, little ways she wasn’t herself. But it began to carve her out, after a while. She never said anything, but she lost weight, stopped sleeping, stopped working as a healer. When we were all old enough, when she knew we would be okay without her, she took her own life. I was the one to find her.”

Helene bit her lip, her eyes burning, until she knew her words would come out steady. “You never told me…”

“No, of course not. Why would I? I wanted her to have peace, at last, to be remembered for all she was and not how her life ended. But you need to know now, with the choice ahead of you.”

Helene’s vision blurred, but in her mind she focused on Thomas’s kind face, her conviction building despite her mother’s warnings. What her grandmother had done was different. She took the life of an ordinary man.

Vogel and the men like him were evil.

Helene glanced around the small kitchen, where she had sat beside her mother so many times, clung to her skirt as she made oils and tinctures at the table, squealed with delight as Agnes held shrunken flowers in her hands until they burst back to life in explosions of red and pink and blue. She could feel the room start to shift, fade at the edges as though it were already a memory instead of a real, solid place.

“I brought it back for you,” Helene said, searching for words that would anchor her in that moment. “The journal. It’s in mysuitcase. It’s of no use to me there. I’ll leave it with you before I go.”

Agnes shook her head. “I gave it to you for a reason. Not to borrow, but to keep. Because it’s yours. It’s been yours since the day you were born. I was only holding it until you were ready.”

Helene couldn’t comprehend her mother’s statement, not in the context of Rouen, of an institution that would so vehemently condemn every word in that book. “But Cecelia… I told you she doesn’t approve.”

Agnes held up a finger to her lips. “You’ll find ways to help people, times that are safe, when the world isn’t looking. And you’ll learn who you really are, who I have always known you to be.”

Helene stood and walked over to her mother’s side, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. They leaned their heads together in the darkness.

CROZET, VIRGINIA

2019

15

LOUISE

Louise’s wet, muddy legs trembled as she entered the kitchen from the back porch. “Grandma?”

She crossed the space just as her grandmother walked in from the living room. “Oh,” she said, her expression changing from surprise to confusion. “You’re soaking wet.”

“It was raining.” The words felt distant in Louise’s ears.

Camille made a soft ticking noise. “And covered in mud. Why don’t you go up and take a hot shower and get on some dry clothes while I make dinner? Your mom will be here soon. And then we can all chat.” She took out a cutting board from one of the cabinets.

Louise couldn’t imagine going upstairs to shower, or eating dinner, or doing anything remotely normal.

Camille began to slice a tomato into thick, ruby-red pieces. But when she glanced over at Louise, her knife stopped midair. “What’s wrong?”

Louise’s throat tightened. “Peter.”

Camille set the knife down. “Did he head out?”

“He’s not going to be okay, is he?” Louise heard the question come out with a sob.

Camille froze. “How did you…?”

“There was a bear. Yesterday in the orchard. It was hurt.”

Camille searched Louise’s face. “I don’t understand.”

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